


Halloween in Beacon Hills

by padmerrie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8361682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padmerrie/pseuds/padmerrie
Summary: The McCalls are running late.  But at least there's chocolate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season 2. May become a series of one-shots featuring the original TW gang to spread some autumn cheer in everyone's lives. :)

“Scott! _SCOTT!”_

“I know, I know, I know,” Scott muttered to his mother, who was downstairs and undoubtedly dumping the untouched plate of eggs made for him into the trash. His stomach growled mournfully at the thought. This had started to become a routine for the duo as of late; between Melissa picking up hours at the hospital, which had recently become severely understaffed, and Scott’s furry situation, they were both running on empty and running late.

Very late.

“SCOTT!”

“I’m coming!” he called back, trying to tug on his sneakers and make his way toward the door at the same time. He tripped, catching himself haphazardly on the doorknob and tumbling out into the hallway, nearly crashing into the wall. Without losing momentum, he barrelled down the hall, the rug underneath his feet slipping slightly with each running step he took. It was only seconds before he was clambering down the stairs at top speed.

His feet hit the ground floor, and at that moment, his mother, wearing a pair of lilac nurse’s scrubs, came strolling into the foyer. He flew past her without stopping, causing a slightly startled Melissa to jump back out of his path and avoid being the second casualty of the morning (the first being her burnt coffee).

Grabbing the doorknob, he wrenched open the door. “Bye Mom! I love you! See you after wor-” Scott froze, standing in the middle of the open doorway. He looked out across the lawn and into an empty street. “He’s… not here.” Frowning, he turned around to look at his mom. She was pulling her hair up into a ponytail, a hair tie sticking out of her mouth. “He’s not here,” Scott said again, louder.

Melissa glanced over at him unconcernedly, taking the hair tie from her mouth and pulling it around her curls. “Not _yet_.”

Scott’s backpack dropped with a ‘thud’ onto the floor by his side. In a second, all his adrenaline was extinguished. He let his head loll backwards dramatically in exasperation as though it were too tired to stand straight on it's own. “Then why’d you rush me?” he moaned.

“Because,” Melissa said unfazed, striding over to the small tabletop where her purse was sitting and starting to rifle through it, “if you’re late, I’ll be late.”

“How would me being late make you late?” Scott asked bitterly, casting her a slightly irritated look, as he closed the front door.

Melissa’s brow creased as she dug deeper into her bag, and when she spoke, her voice was distant, busy concentrating on her search. “If you’re running late, I have to go out there and tell Stiles you’ll be a minute, which will then lead to the minute we spend waiting for you and _ten_ minutes listening to Stiles talk about just about anything. And just as you two are about to leave, he’ll mention how he spent his lunch money for the week on gas because of all the extra miles he spends hauling you around and I’ll spend _another_ couple minutes digging for the change I usually save for the vending machine when I need a sugar fix to get me through my double and give it to him, leaving me penniless, late, and wondering how the lovely doctors at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital managed to keep it from me that I - in fact - spent 14 hours in labor giving birth to two sons, not one - _Ah-Ha!_ ” she exclaimed with a triumphant look, extricating a nurse’s badge from the tangled contents of her purse.

Scott considered this for a moment, and then, a fond sort of smile creeping on his face, said, “That’s… fair.”

Melissa made a knowing ‘mhmm’ sound and nodded wisely in agreement as she clipped the badge onto her shirt.

“You could’ve told me that before,” Scott said, not angry, but still brandishing a tone of defensiveness that all teenagers are armed with.

Melissa gave him a shrewd look. “And that would have stopped you from falling back asleep after your alarm went off and the two times I came in to wake you up?”

“Maybe, I dunno,” Scott said not sounding confident, but not willing to be wrong. He paused. “I at least could’ve found a clean pair of underwear.”

“Scott! Gross!” Melissa scolded over her shoulder, walking out of the room.

“I could’ve had breakfast,” he reasoned instead. His expression perked up suddenly. “Are the eggs - ?”

“In the trash?” Melissa finished, returning and carrying a large bowl with her. “Yeah, you’ll find them with yesterday’s pancakes.” She placed the bowl on the table where her purse sat and grabbed something from it; she tossed it to Scott. “Here.”

He caught it with one hand and turned it over in his palm. “Candy for breakfast?”

“Don’t you even think about reporting me to Child Services - I’ll report you to Animal Control,” Melissa said warningly as she tore into a Kit Kat.

Scott strode over to her. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mom.”

“Yes, I’m the one in this family playing dangerous games, says my teenage werewolf son.”

“Putting this out early,” he explained, sifting through the bowl and inspecting the selection, seeing if he could trade up for something even tastier.

Melissa eyed him skeptically, picking at the bowl’s contents as well. “It’s mid-October. Crazier things have happened this year.”

Scott pocketed several pieces of candy, then resumed his search. Melissa swatted at his hand. “Uh-uh that’s enough, kiddo,” she said through a mouthful of chocolate. “Save some for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

Scott let go, but not without taking a Snickers. He unwrapped it hastily and stuffed it into his mouth before his mom could say anything. He offered her a closed-lip grin as he chewed, pleased with himself. She pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“So,” Scott began, swallowing, “how long do you think this will last this year?”

Melissa took a deep intake of breath, her expression thoughtful. “Well,” she said, crumpling up the leftover candy wrappers and stuffing them in her already over-stuffed purse, “that depends.”

“On - ?” Scott started to ask. But at that moment an obnoxious, strained car horn honked from outside. Both Scott and Melissa’s heads shot to the front door.

That was their cue.

Scott pulled his backpack on his shoulders, his mother grabbing her keys and purse, and together, they walked to the front door. Melissa draped an arm around Scott’s shoulders; he leaned into her instinctively.

Outside, the sky was grey, a bleak backdrop for the brilliantly orange painted leaves that were still clinging to the branches in the trees. In the weeks to come, they would be gone, and the California sun wouldn't shine as bright as it normally would have. A sudden shiver ran through Scott and he zipped up his coat. He listened to the sound of his mom’s keys jostling as she made sure the door had locked behind them, and then, she was by his side again and pulling him into a hug. Something about the way her arms lingered around him told him that maybe she wouldn’t have minded running even later than they were if it meant they could spend more time together. He let her be the first to pull away.

Melissa sighed, hitching the strap of her purse up onto her shoulder. With an air of reluctance, she started down the stairs, but paused when she peered out to the street. Scott, who was still standing on the porch, saw something tug at the corner of her mouth. She swung her head around to look up at him, her ponytail of curls bouncing over her shoulder. Her brow was arched suggestively, her smile back.

“Keep _him_ out of the house, and we’ll be eating candy for breakfast ‘til Thanksgiving.”


End file.
